Execution
by Lilolu
Summary: Remus is the last remaining, loyal, Marauder and feeling every bit of guilt for it, but when given the opportunity to risk it all and bring one of them back, what will he do? Magic can't bring a person back to life, but maybe a soul can...
1. The Difference Between Reality, Stories,

PREVIEW: *post OoTP. turn back now if you haven't read it* Remus is the last remaining, loyal, Marauder and feeling every bit of guilt for it, but when given the opportunity to risk it all and bring one of them back, what will he do? Magic can't bring a person back to life, but maybe the soul can.  
  
A LITTLE NOTE: Alright, I feel really guilty about starting this story b/c I still have the other ones that I have to finish, but the idea came to me and I had to write it. I will continue both It Was Never Mentioned and this one simultaneously. I am not sure, however, when this simultaneous action will begin. it may not be till September cause I am going away and may not have access to a computer.  
  
RATING: PG-13 *language*  
  
DISCLAIMER: I am only doing this once: All characters except for Lady Death and a few others belong to JK Rowling. Lady Death belongs to a poet somewhere that I can't think of the name too. also mythology and such, oh well, she's in lots of places.  
  
Prologue- The Difference Between Reality, Stories, and the Truth  
  
"You know, if you had the chance, would you take it?" a woman with long brown hair whispered into the quiet kitchen of Grimmauld Place.  
  
Remus looked at the young Auror, "Don't you think I would?" His voice was harsher than he had meant it to be, although, he had been finding that more and more true these days. She was sitting cross-legged on one of the chairs around the table in Sirius's home, a place that Remus had been quite wary to enter for over four months. Now it was Halloween and why he had chosen the very worst day in his waking memory to return to a place that already brought on such great sorrow was a mystery to him. Or maybe he thought that the dim of Grimmauld would stamp out the history that Halloween held.  
  
Tonks brooded for a moment on the conversation they were having, they were alone now, Molly was on duty, Arthur gone somewhere, Sirius dead, Dung out on 'business opportunities' etc. etc., the list went on and on. "Pity, isn't it? I mean, 'course magic must have its limits, but don't you think there's got to be a loophole somewhere?"  
  
Remus buried his face into his hands, not really listening to what she was saying. It took a moment for it to register, "What d'you mean?" He said finally.  
  
"Well, like 'magic' can't bring no man back from the other side of death, its like the dark side of the moon. But well, what if, you walked over and kept a string tied or whatever," she supposed.  
  
Remus smirked, "You're a laugh, Tonks. You know that? No one can go on the other side of the veil and return, its been tried. D'you think that family of the convicted didn't try?" Remus took a swig of his drink, "You know, I think that room is the most awful creation of wizard kind, the veil should have never been built. Granted, it hasn't been used in ages, I really thought that they might begin again with Sirius."  
  
Tonks nodded, "I was in school still when Sirius was caught, I remember me mum going on about how she couldn't understand how her favorite cousin could have gone so berserk and she didn't believe that he had really become a death eater. She was right, its pretty funny cause me da would go on about how he couldn't believe that his children were direct relatives of a murderer."  
  
"Of course. My grandparents had been at the last execution done by the high court, Granddad said it was dreadful. The wizard murdered someone, can't quite remember whom, but he did it without magic and all. Awful from what they told me, his mum went running into the veil after he'd been kicked in. She didn't come back out neither," Remus said dolefully, picking an imaginary spot on the ceiling to stare at. The room in which Sirius had died with the black billowing veil was the old wizard execution chamber. It had been long since outlawed to execute someone but the wizards of five generations past put protective spells on it so that it could not be destroyed. It was one of wizard-kinds greatest shames. You see, there was no mess involved, no Unforgivable curses to be used, simply, give a little shove and a man was on the other side, there was no return.  
  
Tonks shook her head, it seemed, still thinking of what Remus has said. The candlelight hit her features at odd angles and Remus was suddenly reminded of Sirius. She had the same eye shape and their mouths were identical. He had never realized it before. Tonks had always been like the little sister he'd never had, he had always felt like an authority figure in her life, always being the bigger person. But here he was, sitting at Sirius's kitchen table, with Tonks trying to be the one to comfort him. the world was screwed up.  
  
Her eyes bulged suddenly, "But Remus, I'm sure its been done before. What about Perilus?"  
  
"Perilus is a story, a story is all. A children's fairy tale so that they are not so afraid of dying one day. It is impossible for a man to make a deal with Lady Death, if such a woman exists."  
  
"I am sure she does," Tonks said decisively. "And isn't there always a bit of truth in stories? I would have thought that you of all people would have believed this."  
  
Remus rubbed his temple, shifting some graying hair out of his eyes, "I used to."  
  
"What made you stop?" she asked tentatively, she was tipping on thin ice and she knew it.  
  
Remus's slightly yellow eyes looked into the deep ice-blue ones of Nymphadora Tonks, "Reality and I suppose, the truth."  
  
She looked confused, "Aren't they the same thing?"  
  
A cold laugh that did not belong to Remus filled the hollow air of the basement kitchen, "Of course not. Reality is full of lies, there is no real world, just stealth, everywhere." He got up, his boots echoing across the stone floor, off the walls and ceiling. Remus put his glass down a little bit too hard and poured in more strong smelling liquor. He then raised the glass to his lips and drank all of it, putting down his glass again to pour more.  
  
Tonks walked over to him and took the liquor filled goblet away, "When was the last time you drank anything Remus, besides butterbeer?"  
  
Remus shrugged, "Dunno, I suppose Halloween, 1981."  
  
"Right, I'm cutting you off," she whispered, pouring the liquor down a slightly rusted sink.  
  
"Fine then," he wasn't in the least bit upset, though it was rather obvious that he had had a bit too much. He sat back down at the table, rolling an old butterbeer cork across the table from one hand to the other, "When I was seven years old, right after the full moon, my parents took me to America. We went away from all the big cities and drove down this windy, one lane road. Me da was muggle born and had been to this mountain when he was a kid. There was a stream and I took off my trainers and I stepped in there. I started climbing up and down the rocks until we got to this waterfall. It wasn't that far down and it went into this kind of lagoon. I started climbing down the rocks that the water ran over but I went to put my foot into a crag and it slipped, I was hanging on for dear life. But my parents were over down the path and didn't hear me calling over the sound of the waterfall. It was just too slippery and I fell, I ended up hitting my knee on a protruding rock and had a deep gash in it that went down to the bone." He lifted up his pant leg and showed Tonks a long scar that went down to the middle of his shin.  
  
"'S there a point to this story there, Remus?" Tonks asked, fearing that he was much drunker than he looked.  
  
Remus smiled, "'Course there is, that Tonks, is truth." He pointed at her than pointed out the window, "All the shit that goes on out there is just that, shit. No one tells you the truth, and when you ask they shunt it away as if it never happened. That's all you get out there is lies."  
  
"How can you say that when there are things like love?" Tonks asked, her young ideas of how the world was.  
  
Remus snorted, "Well, do you think that those raving lunatics who are running the ministry think about love and compassion or fear? All the truths in this world? No, they think about their image, the wrong kind of love. That's what our world has come down to and you know it."  
  
Tonks shrugged, tears dancing on the brims of her eyes, she had to get off this subject. She had to bring back Sirius, had to tell Remus that she knew the way to bring him back, "If I told you that I knew a way, would you do it?"  
  
"Fire away Tonks," and she took a deep breath and told him everything. 


	2. God Bless the DementiWhatzits

**_Author's Note – _**So we all thought that Lu was just going to forget about her little diddy of a story. Even_ Lu_ thought so. But inspiration struck her on mandatory evac. She wrote and she wrote and she's nearly completed the story. This just means, that after some travel, she will be able to post. There shall be hardly any waiting, I promise. And for this reason, you review and the laundry fairy will leave you a nice and purdy present under your pillow. smiles real big I'm proud of myself, leave my chipper-ness alone.

**_Lulu Loves Her Reviewers –_**

_lilblondie2182 –_ I'm updating now, worry not.

_Jessi Black (still having login problems) )-_ tackles Remi and Jessi I haven't talked to you guys in oh so long. You must email me.

_Destiny Bunny- _jumps and skips around with Destiny Bunny and sings the update…sing?

_Marauder Number 5-_ I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait. smirks evilly You don't find out what darling Tonks has to say until a later chapter. 'Tis a dreadful thing.

**_Rating_** – PG-13

****

**_Disclaimer - I_** told you I wasn't doing this again, so don't expect it.

**Chapter Two – God Bless the Demti-Whatzits.**

**July - A Few Months Earlier.**

The bed creaked under a tan, black-haired boy's weight as he tossed and turned. The Dursley's air conditioning was broken and it seemed as though the unnatural sweltering heat that poured in through the open windows only made the night more uncomfortable. To make it worse, a series of screams and yells came from Mrs. Number Eight slightly down the way. The storm lights had turned on with the commotion revealing a rigid Mr. Number Eight and his livid wife duking it out as if actors on a large stage.

"How _dare_ you sleep with that _slut_ of a woman…" she screeched into the starless night. Harry Potter gave up hope of ever falling asleep and walked over to the window to watch the action take place. Lights had blinked on in most of the houses on Privet Drive, but for once, the Dursleys' stayed dark. Harry much preferred to watch without being noticed and neither Aunt Petunia nor Uncle Vernon had heard the commotion over Harry's uncle's snoring. As far as Harry could tell, Dudley was immersed in video games and didn't particularly care about what very well could be the most drama Privet Drive had seen since "that criminal boy" (Harry) had returned from St. Brutus's for the summer.

"You-will-get-out-of-MY-house-_now­_!" Mrs. Number Eight yelled, her words so closely together that it was almost difficult to tell exactly what she was saying. Her husband stood dumbstruck in a halo of light as though he wasn't quite sure he could believe that he'd been caught. "Did you _hear_ me?" his wife demanded of him. Harry smiled despite himself. The summer had been another dull scorcher. Dudley, still not totally recovered from the "Dementi-whatzits" had graciously given Harry a summer off from constant torment, but had also lost his position on the boxing team and his championship had gone to some once-scrawny victim of Dudley's. He had returned to his own version of entertainment: sitting in front of the television munching on doughnuts that were in a box. The box was permanently stuck to his hand and followed him wherever he went. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would drop hints about Dudley getting back in shape, but there was never any real decision to their words. They were worried about their son, and what ever made the rolly-polly happy was done right away.

No one had been willing to explain Harry's Aunt's outburst on the Dementors last summer and any attempt for Harry to ask was met with a nostalgic "don't ask questions" from either Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon. But soon, Harry gave up trying; he gave up caring. Even his Aunt and Uncle had noticed a change in his behavior, though they did nothing. He had become sulky and sullen. He didn't have to scrounge the city anymore for bits of news; the Daily Prophet had finally come to its senses. Harry had expected that with the return of Voldemort he would feel more afraid, but he wasn't. There seemed to be an emptiness where this fear would have been, where Sirius would have been. Now, he just felt a sense of unwanted purpose. Perhaps all the events of last term hadn't quite set in. Sirius was dead, gone. Harry would have to kill or be killed by Voldemort himself in the not-so-distant future. He had told Ron and Hermione his fate through owl post and endured their shock and dismay, their pitied tones, much better than he would have had he told them in person.

But the summer hadn't been a total loss. At his birthday, he had received a new homework planner from Hermione for the year to come, a book about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack from Luna who had insisted on keeping in touch with Harry over the summer holidays, a box of homemade treats from Mrs. Weasley, and a jersey from the National Quidditch League from Ron and Ginny. Fred and George had even chipped in this year and sent him complementary Skiving Snackboxes (who knows what type of nutcase they're going to give you guys this year…) and Headless Hats. Harry had to admit to himself – knowing that they all cared had brightened up his summer at Privet Drive.

As Harry hung his arms out the window, hoping for a stray breeze to cool him off, his thoughts turned back to that moment in the Department of Mysteries. In the matte night sky, he could see the slightly surprised look that had come over Sirius's face as he fell backward. Harry could see the veil rippling in the wake of Sirius's fall – then he hopefully thought of the voices that had seemed just beyond the stone archway. He had lost his only connection to his parents that he'd had. The only person who had known them as he, Harry, would have. But then his thought process moved to an opened letter that sat upon his dresser. Lupin. He had kept in contact with Harry all summer, always ending his letters with a similar message. _Now isn't the time to dwell on what might have been_ – the most recent said –_ nor is it a time to think about the what may be's. Live in the here and now, Harry, and only worry about what must be done now, not tomorrow._

Harry could honestly tell Lupin that he was trying. He had no desire to think about what he would eventually have to face. It was the former that seemed to give Harry the most trouble. How could he not think about the what-ifs? What if he'd tried harder at Occlumency or opened the mirror when Sirius had given it to him? What if they'd all been nicer to Kreacher… the list was endless. But one stuck out in his mind. One he could scarcely imagine not thinking about.

What if there were a way to bring him back?


	3. Dinner at Grimmauld Place

**_Author's Note_**** – **Okay, in all honesty, I dislike this chapter. It's complete fluff until the end. There's a little background on some characters, but the best part doesn't even happen until the last line. So I can't say I'd blame you if you skipped to the last paragraph.

**_Lulu Loves Her Reviewers – _**

_Amaya_– The first chapter was actually a prologue. If you'll see at the top, under the chapter title, it says **A Few Months Earlier** :). The conversation between Tonks and Remus doesn't occur until October.

_Desolation Lily _– Oh, I'd love to bring back James. But if I want to stay canon I can't. JKR still hasn't specifically said (to my knowledge) that we won't see an alive Sirius, but she has said that we will not, will _not_, see an alive Lily and James. Also, Sirius just fell through the veil-thingy, he didn't die! -isveryreluctant-

**_Rating_** – PG-13

**_Disclaimer_** – I don't own Mr. Potter and his fellow characters.

**The REAL Chapter Two –** Dinner at Grimmauld Place

"I've written to Dumbledore and he says we can fetch Harry Friday evening," called Mr. Weasley through the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley smiled at him from the stove where a large pot was stirring. There were ten of them seated around the long table, all in the order except for Ginny and Ron.

"That's wonderful, dear. Perhaps it will brighten up Remus a bit. Maybe he'll come back to the house. I've been quite worried about the poor dear," she said as she leaned over the stove. But it was with good reason, she supposed, that he had been so depressed. Mrs. Weasley could only guess how difficult Sirius's death could have been for Remus. It had been as though one of his best friends had been resurrected from the dead three summers ago. Remus had been quietly ecstatic. So he wasn't the last of them after all; Sirius was innocent and he was back. Azkaban had left him a little, well a lot, worse for wear, but Sirius was still Sirius. Then, to have him wrenched away again at the hand of his own cousin, Mrs. Weasley just couldn't see how anyone could think this fair. And she could only imagine the pain it must have caused him.

Harry was another matter completely. Even though Remus's connections to James had been the same as Sirius's, Harry and he had not formed the same connection. And if Harry's behavior last year had been any indication of how he would act this summer, then he'd be a down right burden on the already dark and dreary house. Molly loved Harry as if she were her own son, and understood the terror that he had gone through, but she worried he'd bring down the already low level of happiness in the house. She had wanted to bring them all to the Burrow but neither she nor Arthur could leave the Order's headquarters for long periods of time now that Voldemort wasn't in hiding.

The deaths had started.

It was something that Molly always feared, something that she couldn't quite stand. The deaths made her want to take all of her children, all of her relatives, all that she cared about and take them out of the Order.

"Molly, is dinner almost ready?" asked Tonks from the table.

Molly finished stirring the stew and lifted the cauldron off of the stove, "Just finished. Fred, George! Would you two mind helping get this pot over to the table. And put your wands away, _please_." They shrugged and smirked and carried the cauldron to the table, no accidents. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had exploded and was the most popular thing in the young wizarding world. They were selling out, almost faster than they could make their joke products, but it seemed as if the Burrow and the Weasley family themselves had had a bit of a makeover. Their robes were no longer hand-me down and the Burrow, when they managed to get home for a weekend, was standing up a little bit straighter. Molly had seemed to accept that her sons were the owners of a joke shop, and she reasoned, it's such a _successful _joke shop.

The people at the table wolfed down the food as though they hadn't eaten in weeks, which was absurd as Molly always cooked too much food for all of them. She smirked, it always made her happy to see them enjoying the things she made.

The doorbell rang followed by the screeches of Mrs. Black.

"I'll get it," said Molly, not quite as hungry as the rest of them seemed to be. She ignored protests and made her way to the front door. _How many times must I tell them not to ring the doorbell?!_

"BLOOD-TRAITORS! MUDBLOODS AND HEATHENS!" and the like continued from her picture. Tonks clumsily made her way into the hall to shut up the painting, mumbling about finding a way to get the bloody thing down.

She reached for the doorknob, "Honestly, you really should know by now that that blasted woman…" she stopped when she saw who was at the door. A lanky, bespectacled man with thick, yet neat, flaming red hair stared at her, "Percy…"


End file.
